


All This And Heaven Too

by spockandawe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Humanstuck, Light BDSM, Neurodiversity, Safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockandawe/pseuds/spockandawe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You laugh and swat the back of his head. “What happened to loving me for my personality?”</p><p>His voice is muffled, but he’s shaking with laughter. “Still looking. ‘M gonna let y’know if I find it.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re definitely going to find it there. Only the noblest intentions, that’s you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	All This And Heaven Too

**Author's Note:**

> This story is humanstuck, set in a superhero AU, which is a pretty minor detail, but the beginning part makes a lot more sense if you know that Mituna's powers include being able to interface with technology (in addition to his psionics). As in canon, his control of his powers is more glitchy after his traumatic incident.
> 
> All credit for the Saviors of the World setting goes to splickedylit/spoonerizeswiftness!
> 
> [Tumblr link](http://spockandawe.tumblr.com/post/82176170410/all-this-and-heaven-too-spockandawe-homestuck)

                “Hey, Latula. LT. ‘Tula. Look what I figured out how to do!”

                You look up from your phone, and he’s watching you, but waving you over to the laptop sitting on the bed. You’re on the screen, but not from any angle the webcam could be getting. You glance back over at him, and he’s still got his eyes on you and he’s doing his best to keep a straight face, but it’s starting to crack into a smile. “Babe, that is so fuckin cool! How are you doing that?”

                He grins from ear to ear. “Ssjust video input. Can add more if y’want.”

                You’re on screen again, once from the side and again from the front. He props his phone up on the sheets too, and it flickers through the login screen while he’s reaching around to grab your computer. You watch the first screen as it follows his eyes, while he sets up all the electronics around you. All the screens have a different videos, each from a camera attached to something else.

                “Whoaa.” You keep looking between them, watching your head turn, checking yourself out from all the different angles. He’s even got an ancient cracked ipod that doesn’t know how to do video at all displaying your face. “This is super trippy. You hardly ever see yourself moving except from the front, y’know? How do you keep them all straight?” You glance over at him when he doesn’t answer, and he looks a little out of it. “MT?”

                Just a few seconds, a shake of his head, and he grins again. “Jusst writing a subprocess. So I c’n pay attention to what’s _really_ important.” He rests his chin on his hand and waggles his eyebrows in that way that always makes you laugh.

                “Awww, babe—”

                “My phone.”

                You blow a raspberry and wing a pillow at his face. He’s cracking up so hard he almost falls over backwards until you catch his arm and reel him back in for a kiss. But kissing means keeping a straight face, and you’re trying _so hard_ not to laugh (and he’s not even trying), and eventually you just give up and lean your foreheads together until you get it out of your system.

                After a minute, you pull back and throw an arm over your eyes. “What, I’m not cool enough for you, is that it? I’m just not rad enough to hang with the one and only Mituna Captor?”

                You get a shrug and a slow, exaggerated sigh, even if he doesn’t manage to stop snickering. “Not everyone can get up t’my level, but I guess I could make an excception. ‘Slike charity.”

                “Ouch, man, _ouch_. I guess I could just leave right now, y’know. Get myself out of here, since you’re just waaaay too awesome for me.”

                “Oh, I don’t know.” His eyes shift slowly downward, and you halfway know what’s coming but you still get the giggles when he says it. “I c’n think of two thingss that are _definitely_ radical enough for me.”

                “Harsh, babe! You’re supposed to say you love me for my personality!”

                He makes with the big puppy eyes. “LT, I’m a tactile learner.” He’s trying to keep it together so hard, but holding in the laughter is messing with his lisp and it’s hardly intelligible when he starts to crack up. “Y—you ssshld be understnding an’ help with my sssthpeccial n—needs.”

                “Well I can’t say no to a request like that! Why don’t I come over there and you can feel up my personality all you want?”

                “Yeah,” he snickers, “Your ‘perthonality.’”

                You’re making an effort to at least stack the computers and phones and stuff on the desk, because he hates it when things get broken since the new devices never feel quite the same. But it’s not that easy when he’s tugging you into his lap, and every screen is showing a close-up of your neck and hair as he starts to nibble on you.

                “Hey, MT. Chill for a sec. You’re just going to get upset if we kick your laptop off the bed again.”

                “Nn. Ssounds like a personal problem.”

                You shiver all over as his teeth dig into the side of your neck. “You gotta at least let me go lock the door. I’ll be right back.”

                “’Sbad to interrupt the learning processs, y’know.”

                “Well, it’s also bad to have people walk in on you when you’re having private time, yeah?”

                He sighs, but his arms loosen up a little, which is as good as an agreement. Then before you can react, he tugs down your zipper.

                It’s a few minutes before you manage to leave the bed.

                When you lock the door and turn around, he’s cleared the phones and computers off the bed and he’s sitting on the edge leering at you.

                “Hey baby, come sssit on my lap n’tell me what you want for Christmas.”

                “Ooh, how ’bout a shiny new boyfriend,” you laugh, as you climb onto the bed. “The one _I’ve_ got won’t stop sassing me.” Whatever he’s trying to say in reply gets lost against your lips as you straddle his legs and kiss him with everything you’ve got. He’s always been so good at this, and you’re happy to lose yourself in this for ages and ages, but when you feel his arms starting to sneak around your waist, you brace yourself.

                You still shriek with surprise when he leans back and twists, and both of you go sprawling across the sheets. It is a _complete_ coincidence that he ends up with his face buried in your chest. Right. You still laugh and gently swat the back of his head. “What happened to feeling up my personality?”

                His voice is muffled, but he’s shaking with laughter. “Still looking. ‘M gonna let y’know if I find it.”

                “Yeah, you’re looking real hard, I bet. Only the noblest intentions, that’s you.” You roll him onto his back and throw a leg over his waist. “Status check, babe.”

                He grins up at you. “Green. Take off your clothess, n’ I bet it’ll be greener.”

                You kiss him on the nose. “Ropes?”

                There’s no hesitation before he nods definitively. It’s a yes pretty much every time, but you’re always sure to ask. He gives your gear pride of place in his desk drawers, even easier to get to than any of his electronics, and right within reach of the bed. “Any other special requests?”

                The way he lounges back and throws an over-dramatic arm over his forehead is straight out of a trashy romance movie. “Undressth me.”

                “Any excuse to get a hot bitch’s hands all over you, huh?”

                “The _hottest_ bitch’s handss.” He snickers as you start to work your hands up under his shirt. “Unless y’don’t think you’re the hottestht?”

                You make a rude noise and pinch his stomach. “Fuck you, I’m the hottest bitch you’ve ever seen.” You tug him upright and peel off his shirt in one smooth motion. “There, that’s all the undressing you’ve earned. Just watch, I’ll tie you up with your pants still on, see how you like that.”

                “Hehehe, oh nooooo, y’ve definitely never finissshed me off through my pantth before, what’ll I _do_?”

                “That what you’re after babe?” You ease him back onto the bed and press a hand ever so gently between his legs. “Fast and rough is fine, or we can take our time.” You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of watching the way he blushes. You take the opportunity to run your other hand up and over his stomach and chest, just feeling the planes and curves of him.

                “Not fasst, not today.” When he tries to arch up against your hand, you pull it back just enough that he can’t get the friction he’s after, and watch him squirm. “The ropes—“

                “Sure thing!” You decide to show a little mercy and unzip his pants. “Arms? Legs? Or just decoration?”

                He helps kick off his pants and boxers as you slide them down, and sits up. “Arms _and_ legs.”

                You hum a little to yourself as you pull out a coil of rope that oughta be long enough. “Kneel for me. We’re gonna get you trussed up _real_ good.”

                After so long, you’ve had enough practice tying him up that you can improvise as you go. Cross the wrists behind, tie them to his ankles so his back bends in a pretty little arch. Every so often he tells you ‘tighter’ or ‘further,’ and you oblige him some, but not enough to risk hurting him. Sometimes, your boy thinks he can take more than he should. It’s a nice slow process, just laying down the rope in neat little lines across his skin. Smoothing it out, adjusting the tension here and there, running your fingers along where rope meets skin, feeling the contrast. Both of you are relaxing into this, and when you look up he’s got his eyes closed, taking slow, shallow breaths.

                You debate throwing a blindfold into the mix, but nah. You like it best when you can feel him watching you the whole way. You wind some of the extra rope around his upper arms and chest to keep him extra secure, some around his thighs to make sure he isn’t gonna be moving without your help. You finish the last knot and take a look at your work.

                “Status?”

                “All ssystems green.”

                “Awesome.” You go in for a kiss but he jerks his head away and gives you a look that’s probably supposed to be sad. It might look sadder if he could manage to stop smiling.

                “LT? You’re still dressthed and it’s not fair.”

                You laugh, and run your hands up his thighs, stopping _just_ short of where it’ll do him any good. “You’re right, that is definitely the most important issue here. I’ll just go take care of that, because there is absolutely nothing else I should be doing right now.”

                “Ffigured we’d start you with something eassy. Give you something _harder_ later.”

                You snort, despite yourself. You can’t stop laughing as you kiss him. One more kiss— Another—Okay, just one more—before you manage to get off the bed. You shrug out of your dress and turn and _bend_ to give him a nice view as you pull down your leggings. When you turn back to him, he’s got his eyes fixed on your blue and red lingerie.

                “Did I forget to mention I got something new? Been thinking about you all day, babe.”

                “Latula, LT— _Please_ —”

                “Hey, hey, chill, I gotcha.” You still take your time, just because he loves struggling, and _god_ do you love watching him struggle. You press yourself against his side and kiss him slow and deep, until he fights to pull away and take a long, shuddering breath. On the one side, you have a generous handful of ass, but the other hand is just trailing soft, lazy lines up one thigh and down the other, never actually making contact where he wants it. You can feel him tense up every time you come close, then shiver and fight to press forward when you refuse to give him what he needs.

                You break away to laugh for a moment, then lean back in and nibble a little on his ear. “Sorry,” you whisper, “But you’re totally helpless. I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything about it.”

                He gasps and twists sharply as you bite down on his collarbone. “ _Nnn_ — LT, I—”

                “What do you want?”

                “Anything. Whatever y’want. _Anything._ ” He’s got his neck all bent around to press his head against yours, because that’s the only way you’ve left him to move, and it makes your heart melt.

                “Shhh, babe. Relax.”

                You kiss your way down his chest, taking the time to run your fingers under the ropes here and there when you have the space. You pause right between his legs, look back up at him, and grin. He’s totally expecting you to keep on teasing, but hey, it’s good to keep him guessing. You take him in all at once. He moans and shudders from head to toe, but he doesn’t drop the eye contact for a second. The way the blush spreads down his neck and chest is so beautiful.

                You consider your options as you press down further against him. It would be nice to draw this out slow and lazy, see how long you can make it last. But you just can’t get enough of the little noises he makes for you, and every little reaction you get out of him just makes you want to up the stakes. You pull back, deliberately lick your lips and smile up at him. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

                “Yesss,” he sighs.

                You give him everything you’ve got, because it’s the closest you can get to what he deserves. You’ve got your mouth on him again and one hand between his legs. That still leaves you one hand free to reach around his back and find his. There’s rope in the way and the angles are all wrong, but his fingers and yours get all tangled up and you just hold tight to each other. You close your eyes and just get lost in making him feel nice.

                That makes it worse when you realize you’ve gotten distracted and missed the signs. He’s not shivering from pleasure anymore, he’s straight up shaking. He’s clinging to your hand with a death grip, and when you finally realize what’s up and pull back, his eyes are squeezed tight shut and his mouth is pressed into a thin, unhappy line.

                “Babe, status?” Nothing. “Status, MT, are you okay?” You get a hand on either side of his face, press your foreheads together. “Focus, babe. Shh. Look at me. Red?”

                You wouldn’t even have been able to spot the nod if you didn’t have every part of you focused on watching for it. One rushed kiss to the forehead and you spin and go for the desk. “Shhhhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” It only takes you a moment to find the heavy-duty scissors, because even if he thinks the ropes are the important part, you always, _always_ make sure these are right near the top. You take a deep breath and slow down enough to make sure you aren’t going to hurt him, because god, you don’t need to mess up any worse tonight.

                Once you cut the ropes in a few strategic places and pull the scraps off him, you have to get his arms and legs and unbend him, because he’s not responding, and _fuck_ , you should have been playing closer attention. You pull a blanket off the foot of the bed and wrap him up good and tight, then pull him into your lap. He reacts then, burrowing his face into your neck and sneaking an arm out of the blanket and around your waist, and you relax, just a hair. His eyes are sparking, only enough to feel like little static shocks, not enough to hurt.

                “Ssrry.”

                “Nah, babe. You didn’t do anything wrong. Overload?”

                He nods, and you feel him make a face against your neck. “Ffucked up, though. Didn’t provide statusth updates. Made you wreck the rope”

                “Hey, hey. We’ve got plenty of ropes, so don’t even try that angle. If you really want to make it up to me, we can work on prepping a new one tomorrow.”

                That makes him grin. “With a tesst run?”

                “Definitely! Only way to make sure we got it right.”

                The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few seconds, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. The tension eases out of him gradually, but there’s no need for you to rush things. When he starts nibbling on your ear, you jostle him with your shoulder. “System rebooted?”

                “Yeah,” he snickers, “A _hard_ reboot”

                Okay, that’s such an awful play on words that you can’t help cracking up. “You cramping anywhere?”

                He shrugs. “Legs, I guessth.”

                You push gently at his shoulder until he tips over backwards. “Still my turn, babe! Let me take care of that for you.” You dig your thumbs into his thighs and find the knots, and you keep a careful eye on him this time.

                He leers down at you. “You c’ld rub the tension out of ssmething else.”

                That makes you grin. “Well gosh, if you’re going to be that subtle, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Want the ropes?” You inch your hands up higher and higher, leaving wet, messy kisses on his stomach, basically being as obnoxiously distracting as humanly possible.

                When you nuzzle the crease at the top of his leg, he shivers all over. “Hands, jusst hands.”

                You manage to snag one of the longer pieces of cut rope without even having to stop touching him. You shimmy up just enough to straddle his waist, letting your ass brush against him as you go. He moans all soft and shuts his eyes, and just holds his wrists up for you. You wrap them up quick with a sloppy knot and duck between his arms to kiss him as he tries to rock up against you. You let him struggle for a minute, and slide back, just a hair.

                When you make contact, he gasps and arches up off the bed. You rock back, sitting up enough to give him just a little more pressure. You’ve got a hand against his cheek and another one braced against his shoulder, and when you rock back as he presses up he shuts his eyes tight and turns his head to kiss your palm.

                “That’s it, babe. Status?”

                “Green— _Don’t sstop_!”

                “Shh, I’ve gotcha.” You pull away for a moment, and he groans, but it’s only a moment before you’re back up against him with a leg pressed down between his. His thighs are tight around yours and he’s thrusting frantically up, and you lean to give him more of that pressure, and kiss him hard and deep. You swallow the sound he makes as he comes, and leave little kisses over his face and neck as he rides the aftershocks out.

                When his legs unclench, you kiss him once more on the tip of his nose, then duck out from between his arms and roll over onto the bed. He grins at you, still looking a little dazed “Wassth it good for you?”

                If you stretch, you can just manage to snag a tissue from the desk, and you wipe the two of you clean in a few quick strokes. “That was definitely a nice wind-up. You okay for a finish?”

                “Yeah, LT, jsst a sec.”

                He’s concentrating hard on the rope on his arms, and his eyes are sparking red and blue. That’s chill. The worst that could happen is that he accidentally sets fire to the sheets again, and you’re prepared to deal with it if he gets frustrated that he can’t get anywhere. You start to tense up when you smell smoke, but before you can say anything he jerks his wrists, and the singed pieces of rope fall away.

                “Babe!! That’s so awesome!” He’s grinning from ear to ear as he snags you with one arm and pulls you into his lap. “The doctor officially prescribes more sex, all the time.”

                “Seemsth logical.” He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he bends to kiss you, and it seems innocent enough and you’re getting totally distracted and lost in the sensation, so you shriek and jump when your bra suddenly unhooks. He’s cracking up over _‘the look on your_ _fa—haa—haaace,_ ’ and you manage the whole ‘injured dignity’ thing for about half a second before you give up and start laughing too.

                You shrug the bra off and toss it onto the floor, then snag his hands and put them firmly on your chest. “That’s what you’re after, huh? My ‘personality?’” When he tries to reply, you tangle a hand in his hair and pull him down for another kiss, then pull away before he can really get going. Every time he opens his mouth to say something snarky, you tug him in for another kiss, and break away. It doesn’t take long before you’re leaning way back, on the point of overbalancing, and he’s breathing hard, following you forward every time you pull away.

                Finally, he tips you over onto your back, laying above you with one arm braced on either side of your head. Like this, you can _really_ appreciate just how tall he is, with your bodies stretched all out together, most of you buried in the sheets and the rest of you left with just the sensation of _Mituna_. You stretch up just enough to kiss him. “Hey, you.”

                He grins. “At _my_ mercthy now, huh?”

                “You know it! Time for you to have your wicked way with me.”

                He runs a hand down your chest, trailing soft, stinging sparks, and oh, _yes_ , this is definitely a thing you are okay with. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for a long, drawn-out kiss, but he pulls away way before you’re ready for it to be over. You try to pout and flutter your eyes at him, but he just laughs and nudges at your shoulder. “Roll over.”

                You roll up onto your side, and then wriggle back against him as he settles in behind you. He ends up with one hand on your chest and slips the other into your underwear. You’re relaxing into the familiar feeling, and all at once, both hands start sparking and oh fuck, oh _god_ , it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and you’re writhing in place, but you can’t tell if you’re trying to get closer or get _away_ —

                “Thtatus, LT?”

                “Green, _green_ , please don’t stop--!”

                You’re adjusting. Slowly, but you’re adjusting. You’re trying to breathe slow and find the pace, but it’s not _easy_ when he’s got his fingers everywhere you’re most sensitive, and you feel numb every time the pain start to fade away, but then new sparks hit you and it’s not _pain_ exactly and everything in you feels like it’s wound so tight that something has to give—When MT pulls the hand away from your chest, you think that maybe he’s giving you a little break, but nope, _there_ it goes down the back of your underwear and it’s _twice_ the sensation when you were barely able to handle how it felt in the first place. You’re talking, you think, but you hardly know what you’re saying, and when he slips two fingers into you, that’s it, it’s too much, you can’t, you just _can’t_ —

                For a moment, you’re hardly aware of anything outside your own body. When you come back to yourself, Mituna’s kissing the back of your shoulder, with his hands resting all chaste and innocent on your stomach. He snickers when you take a deep, shuddering breath. “Don’t need to assk ‘f it was good f'r you.”

                Your legs are a shivery mess, and your arms feel like they’re hardly part of your body, but you manage to get yourself untangled enough to turn around and bury your face in his chest.

                “LT, no, not my poor persthonality.”

                You laugh weakly and wrap your arms around him. “Whatever that was you did there, I think we oughta do it more often.”

                “More sex? Sso demanding.”

                “I know, I know, definitely not something you want.” You stretch up and kiss the underside of his chin. “Tell you what, we’ll compromise. You can get me off, and we’ll just skip getting you off.”

                He laughs, but when you look up at him, he’s more than half asleep. He passes out entirely while you grab a blanket off the floor and try to make sure that nobody’s feet are going to be hanging out in the cold. You’re yawning by the time things are set, and then you’re more than happy to burrow into his chest and let yourself drift off along with him.


End file.
